Six Months Later

When six months past, it was clear that America and England were definitely past the honeymoon phase. The relationship had deteriorated quickly. Not a day passed where the two wouldn't argue. However, there was one thing that kept America from completely snapping.

That was his friendship with Italy.

While he drifted from England, he became closer to Italy. Every time America saw him, he never failed to smile. But, around England, he only really smiled when France humiliated him.

'Are you going to talk to me eventually?' England asked, snapping America out of his thoughts. They were both sitting on the bed, neither looking at each other.

'You're the one who got mad at me', he muttered in reply. England didn't reply.

Knowing that continuing to sit around wouldn't lift America's mood in anyway, he got up and left the room. After a bit of wandering down the hotel corridor, he eventually found the room he was looking for. America approached the door, and knocked loudly. A few seconds later, Italy opened the door.

'Hello America! I was just unpacking', Italy said merrily, pointing to the open suitcase on the bed. There were various items scattered all over the bed as well.

It didn't take Italy long to see that America wasn't probably in the best of moods. He gave the blond a sympathetic look, and closed the door behind him.

'What's wrong? Is it something to do with England?' Italy asked softly. America nodded.

'Yeah. We had another argument over something stupid, and I'm just getting sick of it', he grumbled.

'Do you want me to do anything?' Italy said. He was well aware that America saw Italy as a comfort source, and he didn't mind that in the slightest.

'I was just wondering if you'd like to go out to this pizzeria that I saw earlier', America offered. The smaller man's face brightened up at the sound of that. Italy hardly had anything to eat since he came off the plane, and going to a pizzeria was perfect.

'I'd love to go!'

With that, the two left the hotel, while discussing many things (mainly about how they feared that Sealand would become a proper nation one day and rule over them all). Eventually, they reached the little restaurant and walked inside.

America and Italy often went to places like that when they were in the same area. It was nothing new, and they both figured it was good to take a break from always being around England and Germany.

'What's England's problem with you this time?' Italy asked after they both placed their orders. He always knew America would succumb and tell him what was wrong eventually.

'Small things! England just can't appreciate that I'm the best nation in existence. He called me an egoistic maniac', America huffed, and then laughed.

'He doesn't know any better. He'll come around~', Italy assured him, taking a sip of water.

'Won't hold my breath', America snorted.

The small talk continued when their pizza came, and by the time they left the pizzeria, the moon was already high in the sky. It began raining heavily a while ago, and only began to calm down when America and Italy left the restaurant.

As soon as they left, Italy broke into a run, presumably to get back to the hotel to avoid getting soaked. America smirked, thinking of an idea that would make the chase to get in from the rain a little more fun.

'Hey, Italy! Wanna race?' America shouted, jogging behind Italy to give him false hope of winning.

'Ve, sure! I can beat you any day!' he said in a tone that didn't match his words.

America laughed and outran Italy straight away. When he heard the Italian's footsteps getting closer, he jumped into a puddle, sending a large amount of droplets behind, and continued to run. In the end, America won, but both were still soaked.

'That's what you get for thinking you could win against me', America teased Italy. He took a look at his watch. It was coming close to ten, and decided that England could wait for America to return a little longer.

Italy invited America back up to his room, and he decided to go along. The moment he followed Italy into the room, his phone began to ring. A sense of dread filled him when he saw the caller ID.

'What do you want?' America hissed into the phone when he answered it.

'Where the bloody hell are you? You've been gone for too long!' England slurred on the other end. America grimaced. He really didn't want to deal with England, especially when he had possibly been drinking.

'I'm not a kid. I doesn't matter what time I come back. Goodbye.' With that, America hung up, and turned towards Italy. He was looking at America pitifully.

'Please don't look at me like that...' America groaned, and took a seat next to Italy on the sofa.

'I just don't understand how you're in love with England when you talk to him like that', Italy explained.

'What are you implying?'

'Eh? I'm not implying anything! It's just that... Well, you talk to other nations so nicely and funny, but you always seem to be angry at England...'

America could tell he was making Italy uncomfortable. To save him further awkwardness, he decided it'd be the best time to leave. Besides, England already considered it late enough.

'I better be going...' America said, about to stand up. Italy wished him a goodbye, and then did something unexpected.

He quickly kissed America on the lips. It lasted less than a second, but Italy immediately regretted his actions, putting his hands to his mouth, apologizing over and over. He didn't want to have a reputation of somebody out to break up couples. It was just an impulse he acted on, Italy told himself.

'Huh? Did you really...?' America stammered, completely shocked. Italy shook his head, backing away.

'I'm sorry! I... I just do that sometimes... I-It's a force of habit!' Italy cried. He was lying, and he knew it. Ever since he and America became closer, he couldn't deny that he had feelings for his friend.

Then, it was America's turn to deliver a shock. He pulled Italy into another kiss, this time lasting about four seconds. Italy stopped it, by pulling away with a red face.

'Don't! I don't want to ruin what's left of your relationship', Italy said in a pleading voice. America smiled and cupped Italy's cheek, causing the brunet to flinch.

'Relax. I decided earlier on today that I'm ending it with England', America reassured him.

'Is it because of me?' Italy asked. He tried to make it sound less self-centered, but it didn't exactly come out that way.

'Believe me, you're one of the reasons. I like you too. I know things are never going to work out between me and England, but there's a chance for things to work between you and me. So, I'm going to end it as soon as I see him. Okay?' America told him. Italy nodded.

America decided that since it was definite that Italy had feelings for him, it was the perfect time to end things with England. He stood up, said goodbye, and left the room. When he reached his and England's room, his partner was glaring at him.

'Hello', America said with slight warmth in his voice. England continued to glare.

'You're late.'

America decided there was no point getting into a huge argument. He just wanted to get the break up over and done with.

'England, I'm not arguing about this. In fact, I'm not arguing about any other relationship related things with you anymore', he said clearly.

'Are you trying to say...?' England began, but didn't finish.

'I'm breaking up with you.' There was silence in the room for a minute. Then, England looked at America again.

'Is it anything to do with Italy?' he asked calmly.

'I won't lie, it's one of them. But, there's about a hundred other reasons why I'm ending it.'

'I can give you one good one for you to stay', England replied. There was no emotion at all in his statement, so whatever he said, America knew he wouldn't believe it.

'Sorry, but I really don't want to hear it.'

'Fine. Go', England said simply. America didn't want to question why England seemed so calm about it, but grabbed everything he needed hurriedly, and left the room. England looked around the room, which seemed much more empty.

With no more hesitation, he picked up the phone on the dresser, and punched in a number. It dialed for a few minutes, until someone answered.

'Angleterre! What pleasant surprise. Why are you calling at this hour?' France greeted him pervertedly. England didn't really want to deal with France at that moment, but he couldn't think of anyone else to call.

'Get over here as soon as possible. There's a major problem.'